Rewriting the Truth
by A Slayer In The TARDIS
Summary: "Here's hoping you write better than you speak." Temper gets you in trouble; pride keeps you there. CM Punk x OC
1. Prologue: Cause

**_Prologue_**

Before, during, after. Doesn't matter, really. Try to follow me on this.

I am unique in the way that I am not choosing to be unique. I mean, what's the point? Do I look that way to you? There are no things distinct in what I wear, in how I put on makeup, in how I do my hair. My features belong to my families already. Every eye color has been done already too. Genes are simply passed on.

And on.

_And on._

**_And on._**

We're not breaking any mold.

What about you? Are you or are you not unique? Everyone gets their styles from somewhere.

I only say this for one reason that I want you - the reader, the thinker - to consider. The world has given us guidelines on what to think, what to feel. And to an extent they are followed. You walk into a clothing store usually with a general idea of what you want. What do I like? What will _other_ people like? What will other people _not_ like? What will _surprise_ them? We feed off reactions and, depending on who you are, you act accordingly. That part will be _super_ important.

That's the question, isn't it though? _Who _**_are_**_ you?_

We are not defined by our outside appearance or words. What are we defined by?

Our personalities are defined by why we do the things we do. From what we do for attention to the dirty little secrets we keep locked away in the recesses of our minds.

What if you don't know why? You still do, the reason is hidden, even to you, in that head of yours. It's cause and effect, in its simplest form. What's your cause? Why do you do the things you do? I can't read your mind, but I'll let you delve into mine for a little while.

As a member of the creative writing staff of the WWE, it's essential, unfortunately, to meet with the wrestlers. I've only worked here a year and have met with nearly all the Superstars of all the rosters. Personal bias aside, I try my best to keep things interesting for them and the fans. Now this wasn't exactly my dream job. Maybe when I was eighteen and still completely fascinated with the spectacle of wrestling, but seven years can change a person. So I suppose my real reasoning was to show those other writers how to do their job.

I had been a year away from my bachelor's degree in Film when I had sent them feedback on a recent pay-per-view. It was less feedback and more nonsensical ranting. I had noticed an ad on the site for careers in WWE. What can I say? I may not have liked it anymore but I was curious. My curiosity grew when I saw the title of Creative Writer.

_**Requirements:**_

**_Qualified candidates should possess:_**

_-BA/BS in Film, TV, Drama, Media Studies, Communications or equivalent_

_-Minimum of three to five years writing and production experience in network television_

_-Professional TV staff experience in drama and comedy a plus_

_-Experience in all aspects of live TV production a plus_

_-Highly creative (a prolific idea generator)_

_-Plugged into pop culture and trends_

_-Able to work closely and effectively with talent, writers, and producers throughout the creative process_

_-Strong understanding of WWE's audience (demographic and psychographic) a plus_

_-Must live in Stamford, CT area or be willing to relocate there_

_-Knowledge of WWE shows, talent, and storylines_

_-Excellent communication skills and the ability to work in a team environment_

_-Flexible travel schedule (extensive travel required)_

Maybe I a bit overly confident, but with a chance like that, you'd have to be. It wasn't long before I started applying to television networks to gain experience so much so that they probably got sick of my constant badgering. It was either hire me or arrest me.

I was arrested twice.

I considered myself lucky the third time. I had gotten a writing internship on the staff of a third rate kids sitcom that only lasted one season. Later on that year, after I graduated from NYU, I opted on working for the local news crew and was a savior to the crew of an underrated awards show during a short lived writer's strike. I had returned to watching wrestling, for professional purposes only. I went to wrestling sites and forums to see what the fans were saying. By the time of my 24th birthday, instead of e-mailing the corporate branch of the WWE, I bought a ticket to Stamford, Connecticut to meet with them in person.

That's where I reside now, a year later. I'm not all that sociable with my colleagues or those I write for. Constant run-ins with some of the superstars have made them more or less friends. And that is where this story will begin.

By the time you finish this, you might very well hate me. It started innocently enough until my conscience decided to take an extended vacation. People have been made fools of and hearts have been broken all for my own ends; for my own, as we discussed before, cause.

So then, in an infinite universe full of half baked choices and foolish actions, what exactly _is_ my cause?

**_TBC_****.**


	2. Chapter One: Newbie

**A/N: As a 24 year old, I'm kind of horrified that I'm writing this. Anyway, enough about me! Oh and my characters seem to have a tendency of being not so nice. Just FYI.**

* * *

**Chapter One: Newbie**

_December 2012_

The meeting at the beginning of the week was usually to discuss short term and long term storylines with the superstars, long term meaning a vague plotline for the next few weeks or months and short term meaning a more detailed plot for the week.

For the last month and a half I had been working with the Smackdown roster leading up to TLC, which was actually in another month. It was the first time I had gotten a say in the plot leading up to a major title match and depending on how it goes over with the ratings and fans, they would give me the chance to work with a select number of writers and superstars on the road to Wrestlemania. Usually while we worked with a certain number of superstars on a short term, week-by-week storyline, we were also starting to meet on others days with superstars for advanced, long term plots.

Have I mentioned that I hate having to refer to them as "superstars"?

That day two other writers, Toby and Josh, were working with me as continued going over scripts with Daniel Bryan and Cody Rhodes. All five of us sat in a meeting room, not so much discussing the plots anymore. I felt a little bit bad for the wrestlers in the room. Every other sentence that came out of my peers' mouths just so happened to be "remember that one time…". Cody seemed bored out of his skull while Dan was explaining something to Josh in obvious exasperation. I stayed to myself seeing as I had already gone over the key points of the meeting and had no other use for being there. Besides, twirling my pencil in my hand was much more interesting at the moment.

I wanted desperately to leave but decided against it several times. Usually, since it was the first Saturday of the month, we would get our next long term assignment that would lead up to the next month. I was actually excited considering the pay-per-view I'd be working on would be the Royal Rumble which was the main lead up to Wrestlemania. Part of me was scared shitless at the prospect of having my ideas show up on the crowned jewel of the entire corporation. The other part of me was scared because I was actually enjoying wrestling again.

"Audrey!"

I blinked and dropped my pencil as it fell to the floor with a loud clack. My eyes darted to where the voice had come from to register that it had been Cody. I quickly snatched up my pencil and pretended to look as unflustered as possible. "Yeah?"

All the guys were looking at me with amused grins which only made me want to sock every one of them in the arm. It wouldn't have been the first time.

"Anything you'd like to add, your highness?" Josh asked with a snicker.

"Nah," I said, nonchalantly leaning back in my chair. "I personally don't particularly like talking to people I've worked with for the last month like an awe-struck teenage girl. Oh, but you two feel free to continue."

Dan and Cody laughed while Toby and Josh's faces fell. Before they could think of some witty counter to shoot at me, a knock from the door reached our ears and the creaked softly open. There with an impossibly huge grin plastered on her face, stood Stephanie McMahon-Levesque with a manila folder in hand. "Hey guys! I assume everything's going well."

There was a round of mumbled responses, summing up into to one big "yes". Her grin slightly faded as her attention went to me. "Miss Newsted?"

I gulped down hard at the formal use of my name. "Yes, Mrs. Levesque?"

"I'd like to speak with you in my office immediately," she said in an intimidating tone. I nodded vehemently, hearing more snickers and stifled laughter from Josh and Toby. I stood up, straightening out my skirt before walking over to the two wrestlers in the room. I gave them each a hug, muttering repeatedly about trying not to break me in half. They let out a few laughs before saying goodbye, as did I before following my boss out of the room.

It was funny now, in a cosmic sort of way, how I used to make fun of this very woman when I was younger and now she held my future in her very well-manicured hands. I hated cosmic jokes.

She walked down the hall at a very quick pace as I tried my best to stay in toe. She didn't say one word to me in the halls as we passed people in other meetings and at computers. Everyone seemed utterly stressed and on edge no matter what they were doing, but that's generally how it went at the beginning of every month. We're our own chaotic little world behind the scenes.

Mrs. Levesque pushed open the door to her office, motioning for me to come in as well. I sat down in one of the two seats that were set in front of her desk and folded my hands on my lap. She sat down in the giant leather seat behind her desk opening the folder as she began to speak. "So, Audrey, I've been getting some complaints from your fellow writers lately for... 'blatant disregard for colleagues during meetings'."

In my mind, I was thinking of all the different ways I could murder Josh and Toby while my heart raced a bit faster. I bit my tongue before I could remark thankfully. She set down my folder and gave me an unreadable stare before letting out a laugh. "Don't look so high-strung, you're not on trial here."

I unfolded my hands and sat back a little bit, exhaling in relief. Mrs. Levesque flipped idly through the pages inside the folder, examining each for a few seconds. "You've been with the WWE for over a year now, right?"

"Yes, Mrs. Levesque."

She cringed a bit before glancing at me for a moment. "Call me Stephanie. I'm not just your supervisor, I'm part of the creative team. I'm your coworker. I'd like you to think of me on the same level as the rest of the staff, alright?"

I nodded and waited for her to speak again.

"Audrey, like in every business," Stephanie began, standing up, "there are people who make it and people who don't. Not everyone here is going to make it. They think of the WWE like any other writing job on their resume." She walked around her desk and began pacing. "There are few, truly creative writers on this staff that have known this business long before they even considered this career." She stepped in front of me and crossed her arms. "I believe you are one of those writers. Not only is your previous work exceptional, but what you've written for us in the past year had been thoroughly entertaining and above-par for someone so young. You've impressed quite a few people."

I withheld the giant smile threatening to form on my face and the absolute joy in the pit of my stomach.

I'm guessing she could tell my excitement anyway from the amusement on her own face. "We have two more pay-per-view events to begin working on before the big one and I want to see what you can do for Raw leading up to the Royal Rumble main event."

Unable to hold in my excitement for any longer, I let out a tiny squeak much to my own embarrassment. Stephanie eyed me and raised her eyebrows. I cleared my throat nervously, sitting up straighter in my seat. "Thank you, Mrs. Lev-...I mean, er, Stephanie."

Without a hesitation she continued and resumed her pacing. "You'll be working with two of our executive writers for the next two months on the plot leading to Wrestlemania, and depending on how the audience reacts to the current storyline, you might just being working on this project through to the spectacle itself."

I held in the rest of my excitement and kept a somewhat calm demeanor as she continued filling me in on my new assignment.

* * *

The hours between the morning meeting and the afternoon meeting were excruciatingly long, so much so that lunch was even utterly overbearing. My laptop lost its entertainment value a half hour after I had finished eating. I silently wondered if I could take a nap on one of the smaller tables until the meeting, but decided against it simply for the fact that there was no way I was about to sleep. Instead, I quietly played stupid games for another hour.

In my defense, that was the longest hour of my life.

I was on my fourth game of solitaire before I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I glanced up to my right to see a moderately tall woman with flowing blonde hair smiling at me. It wasn't really a pleasant smile either. Despite having very soft features, it seemed more like a snarl. She brushed a wavy, golden strand of hair out of her eye, scrutinizing me with her bright green stare before speaking. "Newbie, right?"

I paused for a moment and blinked before nodding. "I generally go by Audrey, sometimes Aud if I'm feeling friendly." I couldn't help it; I was nervous and suddenly word vomit was coming much more fervently than usual. I could tell she was about to speak but I couldn't help myself. "Oh! And my personal favorite, 'get the hell out of my seat'."

The woman gave me an impatient look. "Mind if I call you that last one?"

"Rae, let's try not to kill the new girl," a deeper, smooth voice from behind me called out. We both turned around to identify the voice, finding a slightly graying man wearing thick glasses rolling his eyes.

The girl, Rae I presumed, let out a strange cross between a whimper and a growl at the request, which was followed by a sneer in her voice as she spoke. "Charlie, this is 'get the hell out of my seat."

Charlie smiled politely and extended his hand to me which I obligingly shook. "Nice to meet you, Audrey."

"You too," I said with a high-pitched, nervous laugh as I shook his hand.

He let go of my hand and nodded towards the very irritated woman next to me. "You've obviously met Rae already."

Another nervous laugh followed my own nod. I'm good at those.

"Now we only need the last two members of our group and we'll be ready," Charlie said confidently, adjusting his jacket before taking a seat at the table to one side of me while Rae roughly pulled a chair to the other side of the table and took a seat. It wasn't the most comfortable silence but it was a whole hell of a lot better than when we had been speaking to one another. We stayed at our corners in our own little worlds as Rae filed her nails and Charlie seemed to be playing games on his iPhone. I, myself, was occupied with another rousing game of solitaire at the moment until we heard the doors swing open.

I turned around to find a rather tall, tattooed man with his black hair slicked back walking our way. His lip ringed mouth formed a straight line – a clear sign of his distaste for these meetings as his dark eyes scanned over the three of us, judging us. There was a look of disgust coming from Rae while Charlie had a clearly plastered on that fake grin spread across his face. I simply blinked and raised an eyebrow at the man as he took a seat in between my two fellow writers. Of course I wasn't too intimidated by the WWE champion. _This is my job, no time to be a fan these days._

As he begrudgingly took off his Beats headphones, he sent me a glance, his look of boredom and dislike unchanging. I shrunk down in my seat as unnoticeably as possible.

_What? I didn't even do anything yet!_

I shook off the glance as CM Punk began to talk amongst us.

"Charlie, nice to see you again I guess," he began pleasantly, turning from the older man to the younger woman, "and Rae...you look like hell."

"Bite me," Rae snarled, folding her arms and slouching in her chair.

Punk flashed a grin her way as he leaned back lazily in his chair. "I'll pass. Don't want to catch anything."

"Punk, this is one of our newer writers, Audrey Newsted," Charlie interrupted cheerfully, motioning to me with another false smile.

"Great. Another one of you," Punk replied, his eyes going back to me as they flashed in the light."

This time, I was the one to raise an eyebrow.

"Don't start without me."

Again all our heads shot to the door to find a very winded looking Nick Nemeth – oh sorry! Dolph Ziggler for those who don't know -, his white-blond hair falling out of his ponytail and into his face. He jogged up to the last remaining seat between Rae and I. He smiled, a much more pleasant smile than I had seen at the meeting so far. "Looks like I know everyone here."

He was right we'd worked together before very shortly. Nick had always been a nice guy, which was refreshing compared to the rest of the people who'd entered. As if some dark shroud had been lifted, the atmosphere of the room lightened and even Rae seemed less gloomy. Unfortunately, I learned that she looked even more evil when she smiled. It was actually a bit frightening.

"So, the Rumble's coming and here's what we got to work with: at TLC, Punk is going to take the win over Alberto and Mike. The following Raw, we throw Nick in the mix via a six man tag," Charlie began, pulling out a notebook full of loose-leaf paper. "This is where we come in."

Rae reached down to her bag are pulled out a spiral notebook, flipping through the pages with a sigh. "According to recent audience demographics..."

It's a little bit sad, but after hearing the word 'demographics', I stopped listening. We all knew how the crowd felt about the two wrestlers in the room. I glanced back and forth between the two men, to find they were just about as interested as I was. Nick watched his fingers as they tapped to an unrecognizable rhythm, pausing ever so often and starting over a few times. On the other side of the table, Punk was leaning his chair back and forth and staring at the ceiling. I glanced at the ceiling myself for a moment in confusion. _Nope nothing interesting up there._

"Audrey?" Charlie said as my eyes darted from the ceiling to him.

"Uh huh?" I asked, my tone dripping with disinterest.

The older man eyed me curiously. "Is there something interesting on the ceiling that's keeping you from our conversation?"

"That's...kinda what I was wondering," I started sheepishly. Both he and Rae glared at me as I pointed to Punk. "He started it."

To my right, I heard a snorted laugh which I found came from Nick, who had his fist over his mouth trying very hard to suppress another. Across the table, I noticed CM Punk had thrown me a strange look and seemed like he was about to let out a laugh himself. Unfortunately my two fellow writers didn't seem quite as amused as they continued to glare daggers my way. I straightened in my seat and cleared my throat before mumbling some sort of apology.

Without missing a beat, Charlie began speaking again as all of us tried to (or at least pretend to) listen. It was a shame considering his voice came out of his mouth slower than syrup. Even Rae looked bored after a half hour. Luckily the meeting ended a few minutes later or else we would have all killed him. "Rae, Audrey, and I will throw some ideas together for next week's meeting which you'll both have a chance to compound on. Until then, you're on the road. Have a great week."

Charlie closed his notebook as did Rae, before they both stood up and began to walk out. I growled as Rae muttered to her colleague, "Hmph, another brilliant newbie."

As the door shut, I stood with my laptop case and heaved a sigh. I pushed in my chair and began to walk out of the room, dragging my feet for added effect.

"Don't take what Rae says too seriously."

I glanced over to see Nick getting up from his chair his chair at the table. "She's just not good with new people. Don't let her intimidate you."

I didn't reply, but instead nodded and smiled.

Awkward silence enveloped the three remaining people in the room as I shuffled my feet slightly. I cleared my throat for the second time that day. "Well, I suppose I'll see you in Philly. Have a good week," I said before pausing and adding, "and thanks for the advice."

He grinned and shrugged, walking to the door. "No problem. You have a good week too."

With that he was gone, leaving me to want to get out of the room as quickly as possible before I did something else stupid.

"So," the remaining wrestler in the room began, still sitting in his seat and not even looking in my direction, "you always this awkward?"

I stopped in my tracks and spun around, almost forgetting that I wasn't the only person in the room. I looked down at Punk, a frown forming on my lips. "What? No."

"Huh. A bad liar too." He finally took a moment to glance up at me. "Here's hoping you write better than you speak."

My frown deepened as my look turned into a glare, and without even touching the subject of why he wasn't leaving like the rest of us were, I turned and walked out of the room. As I travelled down the hall, I exhaled loudly an scratched my head. That was...interesting.

That was the last thought that went through my head before walking out into the bitter cold of Stamford, CT.

**_TBC._**


	3. Chapter Two: Coffee

_A/N: Seriously I am shocked I got this far. This fic is...I don't know. I wouldn't use the term 'well thought out'. Oh well. Let's see where it goes, shall we? _

* * *

**Chapter Two: Coffee**

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"But you got to go for free!"

"And miss Rise Against?" I shot an incredulous glance at the short red head that was nosy enough to show up in the writers' temporary office. She was younger, pale, and pretty but also, I suppose to even it out, ridiculously annoying whenever she opened her mouth. Of course, she was an intern so it wasn't particularly like she was going to be around for long. What's her name again? Becky or Bailey or something like that. "You're joking, right?"

"Psht, okay – _paying_ to go to a house show for a band you've seen a million times over being able to see a free pay per view event happening live before your eyes. That's the joke." Beth – was it Beth? – folded her arms, clearly stopping her job to talk to me. This was a common occurrence and I couldn't particularly say I liked it.

I felt the intense need to argue with her on the subject, to lay out every reason why she was wrong in detail, and to quietly celebrate my victory for at least a good three minutes. Alas, no. It wasn't worth it. I looked up at her from my chair, mustering up my most authoritative stare. "One: it's Rise Against. Don't get between me and my music. Two: I've been going to these things since I was one. It gets old quick. Three: get back to work."

Brianna – she looked like a Brianna – was about to speak when her mouth clamped shut and she gave a defeated look before picking up her papers and strutting out. Thank god. Finally, I had a moment to myself to write something before the meeting later. I took a long sip from my thermos, grateful to no longer be out in the bitter Philadelphia air. Sure, I missed this place. This was my hometown once upon a time but that was long, long ago. I was pretty sure the only people left here I knew were distant family that either didn't know I existed or just didn't give a shit. Maybe a few high school classmates that never left. Either way, it didn't matter. It wasn't my home anymore. I shoved the thought to the side and turned to my laptop, noticing my word document only had about a paragraph of information I'd written down. One full idea. I sighed and was about to type when –

"Aud! I need some help here!"

I knew that voice. I sighed and spun back around in my chair, giving AJ Lee a flat look as she strode in waving around a piece of paper. This was a fairly common occurrence the past few weeks after her own storyline had gotten a new team of writers. There were several weeks when I had refused to help, but considering my lack of normal social skills and behavior it was a wonder I found someone who could tolerate me.

Don't get me wrong, it's not a lack of self-esteem. I have plenty of self-esteem. I accept myself and I am fully aware that I may be the only one who ever does. It doesn't particularly bother me; it's just the truth. Besides, if they didn't like me, screw 'em. There are seven billion human beings on the Earth and I was sure to meet some that do like me – if we're going by odds.

"Lemme guess - Preston?" I quipped, snatching the paper.

The petite brunette plopped down at another makeshift desk, scowling. "I mean, he couldn't write a decent promo if it slapped him in the face! _That_ sounds nothing like me! It's awful!"

There was a moment of silence when I was trying to come up with a reply to her. It wasn't as if she was hard to write for, she was just…picky. Something that she still hadn't taken up with the big wigs but instead sneaks over to me to do something about it. I obliged once or twice to rewrite her segment in which I feigned stupidity when Michael Hayes questioned me about it. I was generally a trustworthy person and no one thought about it twice but I was starting to feel like I was stretching my luck a bit thin. Reading through it quickly, I handed the paper back to her. "You know I can't do anything."

"Come on, please?"

"No," I replied almost instantly, which didn't put an end to the begging unfortunately.

Trying to put on the saddest face she could probably muster, AJ folded her hands together and pouted. "Just this last time."

"And then I'll get reamed for it again," I muttered, giving the girl a flat expression. The Diva's look didn't falter one bit though, causing me to let out a sigh before speaking again. "Stop that! Just…I don't know! Reword it. You know how you say things. I doubt you need my help for that."

AJ paused, clearly not expecting that answer. She looked down at the paper for what seemed like ages before looking back at me. "Reword it?"

I nodded silently before added quickly, "Just…don't let anyone know I suggested it."

Her attention had gone back to the paper and I was fairly sure she hadn't heard me as I noticed her reread it over and over. She had spun on her heel and started to make her way out of the room when she stopped, causing me to mutter curses under my breath. AJ redirected her gaze onto me, her smile growing. "Oh! Almost forgot! Christmas party! Friday night!"

My eyes widened in sheer horror. "No. No way."

The slightly shorter woman pointed at me threateningly. "You're going. That's that. End of discussion!"

"You can't make me."

She snorted a laugh, folding her arms. "Like hell I can't.

I gave her a flat stare, unwilling to give in.

A frown appeared on her face and her shoulders slumped. "Just...show up, okay? Wear whatever you want. I don't care. You need to do this for your own good." My stare didn't falter but instead proceeded to cause AJ to roll her eyes as she turned back around toward the door. "This isn't over."

In a matter of moments, she was gone and I was once again alone. It'd been a fairly routine morning, showing up at the venue in Philadelphia at the crack of dawn. I was never a huge fan of hotels and considering I usually had to share one with at least one other person, made it my prerogative to bolt as early as possible. It'd been hours since then and I was currently on my third coffee refill, courtesy of the fine catering staff of the Wells Fargo Center. I had maybe an idea and a half written down with minutes to go until my lovely writing colleagues would show so, in defeat, I quickly hit print. I was just happy to know that there would be absolutely no wrestlers at this particular meeting. The last thing I needed was to be critiqued by the talent after being bugged by the talent half of my day.

Of course, as I heard the laser jet silence itself once more, I could hear the familiar sound of Rae's chastising voice as it grew closer. I took deep, calming breath and quietly hoped for the best.

* * *

"Alright, looks like it's about time for lunch," Charlie concluded what I assumed was the most authoritative tone he could possibly manage. It seemed as though, due to his seniority, he'd assigned himself as the leader of our group – which I of course found exceedingly interesting considering we had the exact same job title. "Seems like a good time to site see, maybe find a decent restaurant. We have the rest of the day, but do try and make it to the show."

"If you're looking for a good place to eat," I began in my friendliest tone, "there's this neat little place down the street I could show you – um, Joe's, I think. Best sandwiches in town, I swear. Plus, the people are great, it's super cheap..." The smile on my face faded as I noticed the strange looks I was getting from my fellow writers – a sure sign I was not invited to go with this. I gave a tight lipped, apologetic smile in return. "Sorry, I, uh…I used to live here. Just a suggestion."

They both nodded shortly and left the room, chatting quietly. I waited there in silence for what seemed like ages, cringing at my sloppy delivery of my idea from earlier. Neither Charlie nor Rae said a word about it but instead simply moved on. I hadn't really said anything else for the entirety of the meeting, but had quietly and passively agreed to run with Rae's idea. Honestly, they would have gone with it anyway even if I had disagreed so why rock the boat?

Grumbling to myself about the past hour or so, I got up and collected my things in a messy heap. I fumbled with the strap of my laptop bag as I slung it over my shoulder, attempting to simultaneously grab my thermos and my papers that I hadn't even thought about stuffing next to my computer. With a deep frown stretching across my face, I turned around and headed out of the room. _Maybe I shouldn't have gone to the concert last night…_ I thought, becoming more angry at myself at the very thought of missing my favorite band for this place. These people didn't care anyway. Most of them hated it more than I did.

And that's when it happened. You see, I always had this terrible habit of letting my brain take over – which typically ended in overthinking, something I do far too often. It's amazing how overthinking can cause someone to lose sight of their surroundings in that way. That being said, as I was exiting the room, the next thing I knew I had slammed into something. When I say slammed, I mean slammed. I had managed to keep hold of my laptop but that in itself resulted in my papers and my coffee flying out of my hands and crashing to the floor. The hot coffee splattered at my feet and all over the bottom half of my jeans, not to mention someone else's jeans. It was then I realized that I had not slammed into something, but someone. I was legitimately scared to look up to see who I had more than likely offended but instead kneeled down in the puddle of coffee to pick up my thermos and my papers – all of which were ruined. I gritted my teeth, cursing this day.

"Sorry," I said quietly, gathering up my things in embarrassment. I heard an exasperated sigh from the stranger which only made me angrier. All I wanted to do was leave at that point – and odds were I wouldn't come back for the show. As I finished grabbing my things, I stood and looked up. At that precise moment, my anger turned to horror as the color drained from my face. Of course.

"Awesome. I'm tired, sore, and now I have hot coffee on my legs," Punk quipped, his expression screaming annoyance. "Anything else you want to throw at me while I'm here?"

I paused to keep my composure. Unfortunately I was aware that my tone couldn't find any sincerity to spare. "I said I was sorry."

"That's funny; you don't sound it." He was goading me on at that point and knew it. What crawled up this guy's ass and died? I held my tongue still, knowing it was never a good idea to get into it with the talent - that's how people get fired. I took a moment to gather my thoughts and tried to find something nice to say. There was nothing. I'd already had a shit day and the man in front of me apparently wanted to make it worse. "What? That's it? Nothing else to say? Huh, you are bad at this. They must be just handing out these writing jobs around here."

I looked up at him, blind fury in my eyes now. "Wow, can you just shut the fuck up for two seconds?!" The outburst took him by surprise, his eyes widening in a mixture of shock and anger. "I said I was sorry. I picked up my stuff. It's done. Get over it."

"So you spill coffee everywhere, give some half assed apology, and think it's okay to be a bitch about it?" The look on his face was incredulous as he stood his ground, much the same way I was still standing mine.

"Why not?" I spat back. "You think it's okay to be a bitch about _everything_. Might as well learn from the _best_."

He feigned a gasp. "Woah, a comeback! How long have you had that one stored away? A few months? A year? What a _talented_ acquisition to the creative team! Keep it up and maybe one day you'll be _Diva_ quality."

"Fuck you!" Honestly, I was so angry, that was all I could possibly come up with at the moment. In a split moment of sheer rage and annoyance, I gave him a sharp kick in the shin and stormed off. I was half expecting him to say something else but he also might have been in shock that a member of the writing staff kicked him. I growled under my breath before stopping in my tracks several long minutes later. _What if he told upper management? Why__** wouldn't**__ he tell them what I did? It was unacceptable! You don't kick the superstars! People have gotten fired for less!_

Ugh, I was so dead.


	4. Chapter Three: Sudoku

**Chaper Three: Sudoku**

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all for the the support! R & R please!_

* * *

**_[ Punk ]_**

"That's priceless!" Cody began in between his and Kofi's hysterical laughter. "She…she kicked you in the shin!"

Punk rolled his eyes as he pulled a band tee over his head. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. But come on! What the fuck? What's her problem?!"

Kofi turned to Cody, calming his laughter but still grinning. "That's the tiny one that used to work with those weird guys…Toby and Josh, wasn't it?"

"That's the one. " Cody nodded, zipping up his duffle bag. "She's usually pretty laid back. I mean, I've seen her annoyed with those fanboy writers, but never pissed off!"

Kofi patted Phil on the back, withholding his own laughter. "Are you kidding me? Punk can piss off anyone."

"I was having a bad morning, fucking sue me," Punk added after slinging his bag over his shoulder. "It's not like I'm going to be a dick and tell management. Doesn't that count for anything?"

Cody heaved an exasperated sigh. "You might want to let her know that, dude. People have gotten fired for less."

Punk gave the youngest Rhodes a flat look before for turning to Kofi with a pleading look, as if trying to worm out of it. Kofi shook his head and started out of the locker room. "Nope! I'm staying out of this!"

Cody shrugged on his coat and picked up his bag as well. "I'm just saying, man. You're gonna be working together for a while, right? You might want to learn to get along. It wouldn't hurt."

With that, Cody left the locker room, leaving Punk by himself. He let out a loud, irritated breath before leaving as well and thinking of the some way to 'play nice'. And in that moment, an idea struck him. _Fine, I'll play nice._

A self-satified grin spead across his lips.

* * *

**_[ Audrey ]_**

I hated Christmas.

Maybe it was the traveling; I absolutely hated the traveling. I didn't like impromptu flights to go half way across the country and adding the fact that I was going to see the most irritating and condescending people I've ever known only brought down my mood. I really only did it out of love for my mother anymore. Of course, that had been a week ago. I had skipped out on the Christmas party like I had said I would. I hated parties and wasn't going to budge my stance on them for anyone. Alright, so maybe I was just being stubborn but I had my reasons. It didn't matter all that much anyway; I told AJ that I had family business to take care of and she had ended buying it as far as I could possibly tell.

It had been another hellish week and the previously taped Smackdown saved most of us from having to take a late flight that Friday. Unfortunately, the Indianapolis International Airport on a Friday evening was packed and loud. I was slouching in my chair beside the petite Diva, listening to the music reverberating through my earbuds and focusing on my Sudoku book. Honestly it did wonders for my concentration. Of course, the loud children behind me didn't necessarily help.

Then, there it was. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a Starbucks with empty seats, void of annoying kids. My eyes widened and I stuck my book back in my bag before standing. I mumbled something to AJ about needing some caffeine as I started backing away toward the café area – something I'm sure she didn't even hear as she was so enthralled in one of her new graphic novels.

Surprisingly, she nodded and I turned to find a sparsely populated area a few steps away. I maneuvered through groups of friends and around faux-intellectuals covering up their bit torrent window with Microsoft Excel. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I spun around once to scan the place for the closest empty seat. To my luck, there was a lone table and chair in the corner, nearly invisible from being squashed between two walls and two other tables. I politely moved between the two tables and took a seat, setting down my bag and sitting on the side of my chair not facing the waiting area of the terminal, crossing one leg over the other. I glanced around, warmth growing in my cheeks as I noticed all the people in business wear and looking down at my black holey jeans and vintage Buffy the Vampire Slayer tee. Even the employees seemed over dressed in comparison. I pushed the thought to the back of my head as I zipped open my batman bag and dug through it, grabbing the small booklet from earlier. I smiled lightly at the sight of the word "SUDOKU" scrawled across the top. I flipped the booklet open to the pen I had used as a bookmark, immediately scanning through the mess of numbers.

_Maybe a two? No, a two's in that row...or the five! Aha! _I grinned widely, feeling some odd sense of pride.

If I wasn't so into the puzzle I would've felt weird.

On the other hand, I wasn't into enough to not catch a fairly loud scoff of laughter to my left only inches from me. My pen stopped moving as I looked up. I turned to my left to only see an infuriatingly familiar man with dark hair focusing diligently on the morning paper, pen in hand. I huffed, intent on ignoring him and turned my attention back to my Sudoku puzzle.  
_  
Where was I? ...Five! So then the two would go over-_

A snort of laughter again broke my concentration. A bit annoyed, I again looked up and to my left. For a split second I noticed my least favorite person had his stare on my puzzle book before snapping his head back to his paper. I studied the paper, noticing a cluster of empty squares along others filled with letters.

I heard him pointedly clear his throat.

I tore my eyes from the paper to the direction of the sound, which was unfortunately right above the paper. I was met with a pair of green eyes giving me a very amused stare. The guy raised an eyebrow my way after a few more seconds. My head snapped back to my booklet and heard a light chuckle from him. I lifted my head and shot him glare. "What?"

He shrugged and shook his head going back to his crossword puzzle. _Oh no, you've got my attention now. _I didn't back off an inch and continued to glare at CM Punk. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied, not bothering to look at me this time. I noticed a grin forming on his stubbly face.

I growled involuntarily. _Jackass._

"What?! What is so funny?!" I said in a hushed voice, not wanting any more attention.

He shook his head again. "Like I said: Nothing. It's just…Sudoku? Really?"

My eyebrows furrowed together before I looked down at my book and back to the guy. "And what's wrong with Sudoku?"

He chuckled again in an infuriatingly cute way. _And when I say cute, I mean incredibly stupid._ _Because he's __**being**__ stupid._ I kind of wanted to punch him for starting this in the first place. He turned to me, staring at me with those curiously amused eyes. "Nothing! Nothing. Calm down."

My eyes were throwing daggers at him before I went back to my puzzle and he to his.

_So the two...no, a six needs to go there, right? No...the nine goes there! So then the six goes over here and...the two goes-_

"Doesn't take that much thought, is all I'm saying."

My pen almost bent in half.

"It requires just as much thought as that crossword, actually _more_," I snapped back my stare already on the man I was quickly growing to dislike. "This requires problem solving, that just requires a big vocabulary."

"I thought writers appreciated that kind of stuff," he said without even looking up at me, "Wait. Never mind. I remembered who I was talking to."

"Excuse me?" I asked rather indignantly.

"Yes?" he drawled with a hint of amusement in his tone. "You know, you should _really_ think about calming down. You're making a scene."

I narrowed my eyes on the wrestler. "You started it. You were _laughing _at me."

"No, no, no," he said, sarcasm dripping from his words, "I was laughing _with _you not _at _you. There's a difference."

I clenched my teeth in aggravation. "I. Wasn't. Laughing."

"I stand by my point. Well, this was _nice_," he answered with a smile as he folded up his paper and stood, pushing in his chair. He began to walk off as he called out to me, "Have fun with your numbers, Sudoku."

_What did he just call me?!_

"Well…you have fun with your words then!" I called back, feeling a bit sheepish at the amount of lame that was.

He spun around for a second and gave me a wide toothy grin. "Don't worry. I already did."

My eyes widened as he said that. Before I could think of another lame comeback, he was gone. I sank low into my chair, grumbling as I went back to my puzzle.

"Aud?" AJ had stopped in front me, nodding for me to follow her. "We're about to be seated! Come on!"

I grumbled and stood, shoving my book back in my bag and hoping for a quick flight.

* * *

We'd only been seated for a few minutes and I was already bored out of my skull. I sighed and looked out the window, my mouth stretched into a flat line. I could vaguely see my reflection in the glass, barely making out the freckles dotting my nose as I wrinkled it in distaste. I closed the shade and rested my head against it, feeling it was better to sleep through the flight anyway. Part of me was still annoyed from earlier, considering my infuriating conversation with Punk. What was his deal? Why did he feel the need to even talk to me at all? Wasn't it enough that we were stuck on this stupid storyline together? Thinking about it was just making me angrier.

Of course, I hadn't realized that my closing of the window would be a bother to anyone else. It was clear that my bad mood was getting to AJ, who threw me an exasperated look. She unbuckled herself and closed her book as she stood up. "I gotta go check on something. I'll be back, okay?"

I gave a slight nod and heard her sigh before walking off. Alright, so I had no right to take my mood out on anyone else. It wasn't easy though, considering I hadn't been in a good mood since I was told I was promoted and working on a Wrestlemania story. It was supposed to be a dream come true for someone like me, but instead I was dealing with terrible coworkers and even worse talent. All I really wanted was to catch a break for once. I took a deep, calming breath, resolving to apologize for my awful behavior. Another few minutes passed before I heard AJ sit back down beside me. Swallowing my pride, I opened my eyes and turned to her.

In that moment, my guilt drained away and was quickly replaced with anger and annoyance.

Where AJ had been sitting now contained the same ill-tempered, tattooed jackass from earlier. There CM Punk looked at me, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Hey, buddy!"

My stare darkened as I sat next to him, trapped and unable to speak.

Punk, as if to confirm my fears, buckled himself in and turned back to me. "Looks like it's just you and me."

_Fuck my life._


	5. Chapter Four: Friendly

**Chapter Four: Friendly**

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?"

There, fiddling the button on the side of the armrest, Punk sat silently for the first time in ten minutes. I of course hadn't said a word to him until now as I was too horrified at the prospect of spending the next two hours or so seated next to him with no escape in sight. He turned back to me with a blank stare as if it were obvious. "Adjusting the seat. My back's hurting."

I blinked slowly, clearly not in the mood for whatever game he was playing. "You know that's not what I meant. Why the hell are you sitting here?"

He plastered on another cheesy grin. "Well, seeing as we're going to be working together until Wrestlemania, I said to myself - 'Punk,'I said-"

"Is this going to be a long story?" I cut him off abruptly, my expression growing more bored than agitated – although I was slightly curious to know whether or not he actually would call himself by his wrestling name when talking to himself.

He stared at me for a moment, before speaking again. "'Punk,' I said, 'somehow, someway, management has put you in yet _another_ shitty situation. Now you can mope and complain but you can do better than that.'" He paused for a second before his grin widened. "And that's when I had a brilliant idea. I wasn't going to complain. I'd make the best of a bad situation."

I arched an eyebrow suspiciously. "…and what exactly does that mean?"

"I was really hoping you'd ask that," was all he replied with, setting off my unease.

I shifted slightly in my seat, vaguely hearing the pilots talking over the intercom. I craned my neck to see what was happening, my sight only met with the same old seatbelt and oxygen mask demonstration. I rolled my eyes and sat back once again, noting that my new bestest buddy was still fidgeting with the seat. Unable to keep my mouth shut for much longer, I turned to him suddenly with a glare. "Can you stop that?"

"Stop what?" Punk didn't look up at me but continued to move the back of the seat back and forth. I was sure that by now the person behind him was getting more than a bit irritated. He seemed to have that effect on people.

I huffed loudly. "You know what."

"No idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell," I grumbled, watching as he finally settled on a setting. He was only doing this to irritate me and I knew it. That being know though, I'm not sure what exactly possessed me to do what I did next. Maybe it was because I was angry at him before I even got on the plane. Maybe it was because I wanted to be right. I wasn't quite sure but in a split second, I reached over and pressed the button he'd been messing with which immediately returned the seat to the upright position it'd originally been in. It'd certainly caught him off guard, which I found mildly funny. His shocked stare shot over to me as if he hadn't counted on such a move. My expression remained the same as I shrugged. "We're about to take off."

In a definite act of defiance, he pressed the button again and leaned back. _Seriously?_ My annoyance had peaked at that point as I quickly reached over again and made him sit up. In a matter of seconds we were quietly fighting over the seat adjusting button like two children over a new toy.

It wasn't until a few moments later that we both heard a loud, pointed clearing of a throat. I froze for a moment and looked up to find a flight attendant looming over us, an expectant look on her features held together with a forced, tight smile. "Excuse me but-"

"Damn it, Audrey! We're about to take off! Just stop messing with my seat," Punk cut off the woman, coating his tone with sincerity. He looked up at her with the same feigned apologetic look as he spoke quietly. "I'm very sorry for my friend, Miss. We won't be causing any more trouble."

I gaped at him, unable to form words in my shock – which quickly turned to rage. I looked around, noticing just how many people had their attention turned to us. My eyes went over to the flight attendant, whose annoyance had been directed toward me. Finally, I started to find my voice. "But- no, I-…" Unable to think of a reasonable argument, my mouth clamped shut again. There was a brief pause before I muttered an apology and sat back in my own seat and fastened my seatbelt.

The flight attendant walked off and the various other eyes that had been on us were redirected. I shot Punk a glare, noticing the self-satisfied grin on his face which only made me want to yell or hit him – I wasn't sure which. Of course, I knew better and instead rested my head once more against the closed window, hoping for a quick flight.

* * *

The rest of the flight was positively atrocious. Ironically, it was nothing that my seat neighbor did, although I still partially blamed him. I hadn't gotten any sleep due to a fair amount of paranoia I was feeling. Instead I listened to the most upbeat playlist I had and kept the window open for the remainder of the trip. By the time we landed, I was absolutely exhausted and convinced it was all thanks to the awful human being I had to sit next to. Part of me was even a bit irritated at AJ for swapping seats with him in the first place, but begrudgingly decided move past that part.

I almost moved past my terrible day when, sometime before midnight, I caught notice of a text on my phone. To my horror, the name that popped up was 'Boss Lady'. As quickly as someone who wasn't as fatigued as myself, I opened the text.

**Meeting tomorrow morning 11. Staff will direct you to the location.**

To my relief though, I was lucky enough to not have to deal with CM Punk for the rest of my night. That coupled with the familiarity of my apartment in Stamford was an incredible stress relief and lead to what felt like the best sleep of my life.

Unfortunately, the night seemed to end too soon and before I knew it, I was roused by the sound of my alarm clock around 6 AM. I grumbled quietly and struggled to drag myself out of bed. In a matter of moments, I was rushing around my home, fumbling around as I managed to take a shower and get dressed. Before I knew it, I was flying out the door, back in my uncomfortable business clothes that I only seemed to use when I knew I was going to meet with the higher ups.

I smoothed out the wrinkle in my black slacks as I strode out into the icy December air, realizing something in the process. Wait! Pulling out my phone, I turned the screen on and found myself shocked that I'd forgotten what day it was. Shit! I shoved the phone back in my bag, grumbling quietly.

* * *

_**Happy New Year!**_

That's what the banner said. The stupid banner that hung over our desks, complete with streamers and shiny gold lettering. Some of the other writers were amiably chatting with each other, probably over plans for the night. This was pretty common actually; every year the office had a New Year's Eve party and depending on schedules, it meant the entirety of WWE's main office along with several other branches – talent included – socialized and rang in another year full of missed opportunities and unfulfilled stock quotas. What could I say? I stopped making resolutions a long time ago.

I silently walked past my colleagues, eyeing a few of them curiously. Half of them didn't even like each other; I honestly couldn't grasp exactly why they were always so friendly to each other. I withheld an exasperated sigh and continued my walk to Mrs. Levesque's office, quickening my pace to avoid speaking with anyone else. As I neared the door, my hands began to fidget a bit. Why exactly would I need to meet with her _again_? Taking a deep breath as I stopped at the office, I knocked briefly on the door.

"Come in."

I gulped as I turned the knob, pushing open the door slowly and smiling meekly at my boss. "You needed to see me?"

Stephanie smiled politely and gestured to one of the seats in front of her desk. "Audrey, hi. Glad you could make it. Please take a seat."

I closed the door behind me and shuffled over to the chair, quickly sitting down. My nervousness had begun to really set in as I sat up straight with my hands folded on my lap, awaiting some sort of judgment. Did she hear how I'd been acting recently? I froze. Did she know that I kicked one of the superstars after spilling coffee on him? My expression changed to that of a deer caught in the headlights.

Stephanie eyed me strangely. "Are you alright?"

Without a moment's pause, I nodded vehemently but kept quiet.

She seemed to shrug off my odd behavior and simply moved on with the discussion. "So then - let's get down to business. We need your help."

In that moment, my stare went from scared shitless to ridiculously confused. "My help? But I already work here…" My sentence trailed off as I tried to wrap my head around what was going on. "My help with what?"

Stephanie folded her hands on her desk. "We – the writing department – have been having some problems lately. With some of our superstars, in particularly." She paused, most likely choosing her words very carefully. "I'm sorry I didn't mention this sooner, but that's why we needed you. You've had quite the rapport with our talent and a few have given you their recommendation for this…issue."

Part of me was excited that I'd received such a compliment but I was too anxious at the moment to really take it in. "What's the issue?"

"Phil Brooks – you probably know him better as CM Punk. He hasn't been cooperating with us and it's been getting worse as of late." Clearly, Steph wasn't looking at my reaction or else she would've known exactly how I was feeling about this already. "What we need is a…diplomat."

_I can't do this_. I wanted to say it out loud but I was still in utter shock.

"Just be you."

_I can't do this._

"Be charming. Friendly."

_I can't do this._

"Really spend some time together. Become friends."

_I cannot fucking do this._

"And maybe somewhere down the line, start dropping hints on storylines. Cater to his ego if you have to. Convince him we're not so bad."

_Fucking hell._ I was about to say something, maybe explain why this could never happen but I was stopped again as she spoke.

"If you can do this for us - if you can get him to actually release some control over his plots - there'd be quite the promotion in your future. So what do you say?" She finally looked back at me, with a smile that only made me think of all those years ago when I hated her.

And, like the self serving motion I was, any complaints I had evaporated into thin air. I nodded dumbly and forced a faint smile myself. "…Sure. Yeah. I can do that."

I don't remember anything else that happened after that. I know she was speaking but I couldn't hear it anymore. I was too dumbfounded by the events that just happened. Before I knew what was happening, I was standing and leaving, forcing myself to walk out of the room and eventually out of the building. I could barely feel the cold air as it hit my face. All I could feel was an intense disgust – and maybe some sense of rage at the state of my life. I thought back to the last week and all the events that followed. I thought back to that fucking jackass, CM Punk. As I drove home, I felt a loathing for myself as I began devising plans to make this work.

_Well, Aud, what have we learned today?_


	6. Chapter Five: Training

**Chapter Five: Training**

* * *

**A/N: So, I had no idea that this chapter would be this long. I kinda proud though. We're at the very cusp of NaNoWriMo so I'll be hauling ass on the fic. Be prepared!**

* * *

"How in the hell am I supposed to get him to like me?!" I plopped down on the hotel room bed that very afternoon, tired but far too on edge to get some sleep.

"Who?"

"Punk!"

AJ let out a noise that was almost inhuman which changed into hysterical laughter. As she took a breath, calming down a bit, she caught a glance of my unamused expression. Her eyes widened. "...Oh God, you're serious. Wait, why does it matter if he likes you?"

"Well, it beats the alternative, doesn't it?" I sighed, keeping a straight face. It wasn't the truth exactly. Telling anyone didn't seem to be an option of course.

The slightly shorter brunette shrugged in agreement, sitting on the other side of the bed. "Not gonna lie, it is a little weird how he's been going out of his way to get to you. Almost like he has a vendetta or something."

"_Almost_?" I repeated incredulously, throwing AJ a pointed look. It confirmed my suspicions though. It was common knowledge that Punk and AJ were friends and if I wanted a legitimate opinion on the situation without him knowing, this was probably my best bet.

"Alright! Alright…" She huffed, sitting crossed legged across from me. "Welp, here I thought you stopped by 'cause you maybe - just _maybe _- had a change of heart about that New Year's thing."

I raised an eyebrow. "New Year's thing?"

She rolled her eyes, giving me the feeling that this was not the first time we'd had this discussion. "The New Year's thing I'm doing tonight. Going out on the town. Music. Friends. Counting backwards from ten. Y'know, the whole nine yards. It's better than the Soul Calibur tournament I had planned - not by much but you know what I mean." Off of my blank stare, she agitatedly waved it off. "Whatever. Anyway. I'm assuming you're here for my expertise on the subject of Phil."

I nodded vehemently, sitting up at the mention. Mustering up the most pleading look I could, I folded my hands together. "Yes. Please. Pretty please. I need help."

This - I had to admit - was a very compromising position for me and I wasn't the only one who knew that. AJ grinned which only furthered my sense of distress. "I don't know…"

I looked at her, confused. _Seriously? _This was not the time to be asking to make some sort of deal. Then again, I had come over to her hotel room unannounced asking for a favor after blowing her off more times than I could possibly count. I felt a twinge of guilt but hated the idea of giving in. Part of me didn't see why I should and the other part ironically was scolding the first part in a veritable war of inner monologues. I waited another several moments before muttering through my now gritted teeth. "I'll go tonight."

"Sorry, I didn't hear that. What did you say?"

I exhaled loudly and paused for another second or two before answering. "I'll go tonight, okay? I'll go."

Before I knew what was happening, I was engulfed in a bone crushing hug. As I wasn't particularly a touchy-huggy person, I gave AJ a short, awkward pat on the back. "Okay, um, I'd like to keep all my ribs intact."

She let go and without an ounce of sympathy jumped up and started pacing around the room, mumbling something under her breath. I watched her, waiting for some sort of response at any moment and not exactly knowing what I was going to get. I scratched the back of my head, mussing up the short black locks in the process. I was honestly starting to rethink my decision to come straight here after leaving the office - and even more so I was regretting lying about my intentions. There weren't exactly many people I was on casual speaking terms with and most other would've simply left it at laughing at me. In some strange way, I actually appreciated the Diva for going out of her way to make nice, considering I never really made it easy on her - or anyone else for that matter.

"That's it!"

I jumped out of my skin for second at the suddenness of AJ's apparent epiphany. I looked up at her in shock and slight irritation. "What's it?"

She rushed to grab a chair from the other side of the room and brought it over by the bed, sitting across from me. "It's so freaking obvious!"

"Y'know, I can't read your mind," I retorted, sitting up cross legged and giving the woman across from me a flat look. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay. Believe it or not, you two are actually a lot alike," AJ said in mild annoyance herself. Off the expression of distaste I gave her, she rolled her eyes. "What? It's true! I mean, with some teeny, tiny differences. Obviously." She leaned back in the chair. "And one huge difference."

I furrowed my eyebrows, shoving my argument about Punk and I being alike to the back of my mind. "What do you mean? What difference?"

"Easy. _He _doesn't have filter," she began, leaning forward again and staring me down. "You do."

"What do you mean? What filter?" I asked with an air of panic seeping into my tone.

Gesturing more and more with her hands, she continued. "Phil - he doesn't have a filter. He says what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. That's just how he is - take it or leave it." The petite wrestler then gestured to me with an apologetic half smile. "You're pretty much the opposite. And that's your filter. You just don't say anything to anyone you aren't already friends with. Ever. Therein, you don't make friends."

I shrank down a bit where I sat. "...well, _we _became friends."

Even that was a stretch.

"Because I bug the hell out of you,"AJ argued, as if reading my thoughts. "C'mon! You make people work for it, that's for sure. I think I've exerted more energy toward getting you to socialize than I have in my last three matches _combined_. And I wish I was joking."

Unable to argue over what she was saying, I paused briefly before speaking once again. "...So what does this have to do with making peace with _Phil_?"

There was a certain bit of sarcasm as I spoke, knowing full well hardly anyone ever called him by his first name.

"Well, you can start by not calling him Phil,"AJ added jokingly. At the lack of laughter from my end, she cleared her throat and went on. "You gotta meet him on his level. Argue back - only, you know, be witty. Be the opinionated weirdo I know you can be."

I wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that and instead sat quietly with a confused look plastered all over my face.

AJ let out a frustrated grunt. "Meaning lose the damn filter! Stop...stopping yourself!"

"I don't-"

"Yeah, ya do!"

I glared at her, folding my arms. "But I don't want to get rid of my filter! I like my filter. I _need _my filter." I thought about any time I had simply said exactly what was on my mind. My complexion went slightly pale. "Bad things happen when I don't have my filter."

"Okay, now you're just overreacting," she argued, standing once again and grabbing a comic that had been set on the nightstand. She rolled it up like a newspaper and went back to stand in front of me.

I gave her a confused stare. "...you're not serious."

"Oh, I am."AJ smiled tightly, narrowing her eyes on me. "This is an exercise. We're going to have a conversation and whenever I ask you something, you have to answer immediately. And I mean _immediately_. If you don't answer within the first five seconds, I hit you on the nose with this."

My brows furrowed as I looked at the comic book in her hand. "...Am I a dog or something?"

"Nope, but I'm going to train you like one," AJ answered quickly. Off of my horrified look, she sighed and added, "You want to get through the next few months, right? You've got until at least Wrestlemania, if not longer if you do well. You, my dear Audrey, need to be prepared."

I wanted to grumble and complain to her about all of this but decided against it for fear of being hit with the book - which in it's own way, confirmed her theory about me. Still, I stayed silent, awaiting her 'test' until a question popped into my head a second or two later. I hesitated before asking but spoke nonetheless. "What if you don't like the answer? I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if you asking me to leave or uninvited me from this News Years thing."

I tried not to sound hopeful for that last part.

"First of all, that would make me a pretty shitty friend, so no I won't be doing that. And secondly, you're going. You already agreed." AJ sat back down, crossing one leg over the other and attempting to look somewhat professional, as if I were seeing a shrink and not asking a friend for a favor. She adjusted her glasses, only adding effect to the 'shrink' theory. "Okay, I'll be Punk, you be you."

_This is going to be awful._

I wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, but her good posture went away immediate. She was suddenly slouching, her arms crossed while she glared at me as if I had spat in her coffee. _Ah. I get it._ And in an instant, my stress levels skyrocketed as she spoke. "What are you looking at?"

My eyes widened and I looked around quickly, clearing my throat. "Uh...Nothing."

**Whack**.

I rubbed my nose gingerly. "Ow! Seriously?"

"Try again," AJ simply responded. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing!"

**Whack**.

"Ow!"

The Diva stared me down, clearly already getting annoyed with me. "You can do better than that! You're a writer, for god's sake!"

"Meaning I have time to think of what I say!" I argued back, getting a bit annoyed myself. "I can't just say something amazing and intelligent on a dime!"

She huffed, her expression unchanging."Why not?"

"Because I'll sound like an idiot!"

"So?"

I felt almost as if I was being personally attacked - another terrible trait I had. At that point, I hadn't even realized I was nearly shouting. "Because I don't _want _to sound like an idiot! Isn't that the entire point?!"

"What are you looking at?!" she said again, her voice stern this time.

My eyes darkened at the girl in front of me. It almost felt as if I were talking to Punk at that moment. "You're the one who sat in front of me! What are _you _looking at?!"

She sighed nonchalantly, clearly still 'in character' as she sat there tapping her foot. "Just another shitty new writer who wants to control my every move."

I needed to calm down - being this worked up wasn't benefiting me whatsoever. This was AJ, not Punk. She wasn't going to judge me. She was trying to help. I was running out of time to answer at that. I was still fairly angry, which felt a bit silly and irrational but answer with the first thing I could think of all the same. "Paranoid, much?"

"What? Am I supposed to be happy being put into another half-assed feud? I'm getting screwed over. I know it and you sure as hell know it."

"God, will you shut up!" It came out of my mouth and it even surprised me. "Stop whining, suck it up, and play nice!" I calmed down a bit, taking a deep breath before focusing back on AJ and trying my best to think of her as Punk. "You don't have to like me but - like it or not - you're stuck with me. Deal with it."

AJ looked at me as if she were examining a new form of life. After a few seconds she gave a shrug. "Eh. Delivery was a bit over the top. Don't yell. He'll know you're angry and he'll use it. But still _be_ angry - only in a calm way. It works for you. Pretend he's one of those two dumbass writers you used to work with! He's no different, just a little bit quicker on his feet. Trust me on this."

I sighed and slightly nodded, not completely ready to take her words as a guarantee and also a bit taken aback by my 'grade'.

"Alright now, get up!" she added suddenly, jumping up herself. Completely surprised by this, I blinked rapidly and stood as quickly as possible. Before I knew what was happening, she was pushing me out the door talking again, which since I was being thrown out I hardly caught. "Just be ready tonight! Practice, practice, practice! Use your anger calmly and positively, think of it like a mantra!" As she opened the door, she stopped me briefly with a serious expression on her face and rested her hand on my shoulder. "And above all else, be mindful of the living Force, my young padawan."

I gave her a blank stare. "Wait, what?"

"Go! Don't forget to text me your address!" AJ began shoving me out the door again until I found myself in the hallway of the hotel. "Be ready by eight! Bye!"

And with that, the door was closed in my face.

_...What just happened?_

* * *

It felt like mere minutes, at the most a half hour. Alas, no. It had been four hours. Four whole hours had flown by as I practiced 'being witty' in a mirror for most of that time. I wasn't ready for Monday and I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this travesty of a night. I needed to be at the top of my game before I saw Punk again in two days. I needed to make him like me, or at least tolerate me and apparently that meant being as much of a douche as him. I looked in the mirror, my own dark eyes staring back with worry. I mussed my hair a bit, making the short pixie cut piece-y. Dark, heavy makeup lined my eyes, making them look brown instead of black for once. I looked at myself in the glass, pleased at the work I had done as I finished putting on my third necklace. Sighing as I walked away from the mirror, I buckled my worn out green-plaid belt considering I didn't feel like pulling up the faded black jeans I'd decided on all night.

I heard my phone go off in the living room but I was in no rush to answer it. I was sure it was AJ saying she was either almost here or already here and I was prepared to take my sweet time getting outside. Slipping into some random pair of black and blue skate shoes that I couldn't for the life of me remember the brand name of and pulling on a coat over yet another one of my ridiculous band tees - I think it was The Beatles but I was too distracted to remember - I strolled idly over to the door. I quickly grabbed my keys and bag by the door and exited my apartment.

In a matter of minutes, I was already at the ground floor and heading out the main door. The icy air felt like needles lightly pressing against the very little exposed skin I had. I shook off the feeling as best I could and spotted a black car with the engine running a few feet away in the center of the parking lot. The window rolled down to reveal the familiar face of Kofi Kingston grinning at me. "Hey, Audrey! Going our way?"

I saw AJ waving from the passenger's seat with a wide smile, which happened to be infectious as I found myself smiling. "Hey!"

It was odd - I felt almost unnaturally happy to be spending time with these people. At the same time, there was nothing threatening about either of them and I didn't really have a reason to be stressed at the immediate moment. I walked closer to the car and swung open the back door on the driver's side, quickly getting in before the cold got to me even more.

As I closed the door and looked around, my smile faded once again. I noticed a few key things: AJ's smile was more apologetic than generally friendly and, more importantly, I was not alone in the back.

To my right sat CM Punk, grinning that same stupid, taunting grin as always. "Well, if it isn't my new friend."

My eyes flicked over to AJ to glare at her before they went back to Punk and instantaneously darkened.

He gave me mocking look, as if he didn't understand my anger in the situation - or worse, did understand it and prefered it that way. "What? What are you looking at?"

I heard a snort of laughter from the front passenger seat and gritted my teeth.


	7. Chapter Six: New Year's

**Chapter 6: New Year's**

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A/N: Thanks to NaNoWriMo and vigorous RPing of CM Punk, this chapter is 3,777 words. You're welcome.

* * *

I sat in the back, my arms folded tightly across my chest as my eyes stayed fixed I the window. I hadn't spoken a word since entering the car and honestly debated about saying anything all night. Of course, I was aware just how childish that sounded and knew that even I couldn't go through with it - at least not with everybody. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Punk talking and laughing with AJ and Kofi. My only solace at the moment became a string on the side of my shirt that I had started playing with the last few minutes we remained in the car. The ride had been agonizingly long and I had a sinking feeling that the night would not be any different.

"So, who else is going to be here?" I said as we parked in what looked like a ridiculously packed multi-level garage.

The boys turned to me briefly but both continued to unbuckle their seat belts and left the car. AJ had turned to me though, understanding just how pensive I was. "Oh! Uh, Nick will be. Celeste. I think some of the FCW guys are in town too…"

It was a bit odd; I had no idea what FCW was up until I had started in the company. I'd never met anyone who was still in the developmental facility but the writing staff - myself included - were all aware that sometime in the next few months it would be turning into NXT. I only had to write for NXT once when I first started and had completely and utter loathed it. The only good thing that had come out of the experience was meeting AJ who was more than happy to keep me company whenever she could. Aside from that, I was hoping and praying that I would not have to write for NXT again. None of the other writers gave two shits about it and it made it all the harder to get anything done. Of course, I was still excited to meet with a few of the people I might or might not be working with.

If nothing else, I enjoyed meeting new talent. Everyone in this company was so different, it was like an adventure in itself talking to them all.

"Hurry up! We're gonna leave you behind if you take any longer!"

And then there was CM Punk.

AJ eyed me pleadingly. "Just...remember, don't let him get to you. Channel the anger. You'll be fine."

"Yeah," I replied begrudgingly, unbuckling my seatbelt. We both exited the car and AJ sped up to keep in toe with Kofi and Punk. I stayed a few paces behind, watching the other three with little interest as we walked down the sidewalk. I hugged my jacket close, warding off the icy Connecticut air and paying no mind to the people passing as they continued on into the night.

We'd passed several different places along the crowded stretch of road that I wasn't sure if we were going to end up somewhere or if they were just meeting up with people on a street corner. Of course, the latter was cancelled out quickly after that when they took a sharp turn. My eyebrows furrowed and I sped up and turned toward where they had disappeared to. I glanced up at the sign. Rack 'n' Roll Cafe. With a shrug, I veered around a few people standing in front of the establishment, briefly bought my ticket, and pushed open the door.

The thick, warm air swept over me as I looked around for any sign of the people I drove here with. Quietly and politely, I swerved around patrons standing around, most having an almost identical look to them. Nearly all the people around with young - around my age or younger at least - and dressed in beat up, torn up clothes covered in patches of bands I'd never heard of. _Ah,_ was the only thought I had. It all clicked. I never really knew anyone who went to local shows growing up so, considering my chicken-shit status I've upheld most of my life, I never went to any on my own. This is a whole new world to me and I would've never expect to show up here with a bunch of _wrestlers_.

Maneuvering around a few tables, I spotted curly bleach blond hair in the distance which I knew could only be one person here. Or at least I hoped. I bolted over to the other end of the large room, finally finding a few familiar faces. I gave a pointed glare to AJ when she walked up to me and ask where I had been, only to be followed by her dragging me over to a few people who I did not recognize and some I did. "Guys, this is Audrey, that friend I was telling you about."

The two men nodded and the woman smiled and waved. I muttered a 'hello' before AJ spoke again. "Audrey, this is Colby, Jon, and you already know Celeste. Obviously."

I waved to the three, noting that behind them Nick, Kofi, and Punk were talking and laughing. I turned around, finding that AJ had - in a very ADD way - left my side and gone over to the three boys, leaving me with Kait and two guys I so far only knew the names of. I gave a tight, forced smile. "So, uh...you guys go to local shows often?"

Colby gave a smile of his own, seeming a bit sympathetic while Jon seemed utterly disinterested and Kait was more than a little distracted. She snapped out of it and looked at me. "Huh? Oh. Not really, no. I promised April I'd show up. And, look at that, here I am!" She gave an awkward laugh and paused for a second before speaking again. "I'm was about to go get us some drinks, is there anything you wanted?"

"Er, I suppose I'll have a soda. Coke or Pepsi, whatever they have," I replied with a gracious smile.

"No prob. Hey, either of you boys wanna help me carry all the drinks?" For a few seconds, there was no reply, causing Kait to cross her arms impatiently. "Please, don't all rush to help."

Jon sighed exasperatedly, moving past us. "Fine. Whatever. Come on."

As the two left for the bar area, I stood there rather awkwardly, rocking on the balls of my feet. "Well, he seemed...happy."

"Who, Jon? He just had a bad flight out here. He's not normally this bad, I swear," Colby said with a laugh.

I nodded, sticking my hands in my jacket pockets. "Oh. That's rough...Wait, did you guys really fly all the way out here just to see a local concert?"

"What? No, no, no!" he started, eyes wide as he shook his head. "I've been planning to come out here for months. I don't know about Jon though. I had no idea we were even going to the same place until we got here. We both have some friends we knew would be here. So here we are."

"Sounds like an adventure," I responded with a laugh of my own.

His smile widened. "Yep! And it's not even midnight yet!"

_Midnight_... I thought, my brain barrelling back towards my least favorite person there. It certainly would be an adventure if I had to interact with him again - and not a pleasant one at that.

* * *

"...and then she was like 'shit, we forgot the twins'!" Kaitlyn went on, a wide grin on her face. It'd been at least two and a half hours and the few people around me were fairly drunk and much more talkative - except for Colby who happened to be their designated driver. Of course, he'd already been in a mellow and chatty mood himself without the alcohol, so it all seemed to work out.

We all laughed at the end of the story, some more than others. By 'all', what I mean is everyone but Punk, who had managed to go off somewhere on his own for a while. He'd managed to hardly talk to me which I was very much thankful for. Although, if I were to go through with this plan of action that AJ gave me, that's clearly not good. It meant I was still not even a blip on his radar unless we were working and if I wanted that promotion, that's not good enough. I hated to admit it, but I knew my plan had to go into effect tonight. I wasn't too thrilled with this prospect considering I was having a fairly good time and the music was actually pretty good, as was the company. I wasn't talking all that much still but I still got in a joke or two - albeit nerdy and obscure jokes but jokes nonetheless. A few people laughed at least and that's what counted.

I had at least a half hour until midnight and then who knew when they'd want to leave. Suddenly, I sat up - an action that made everyone around me look in my direction. Looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights, I gave a nervous smile. "Sorry, I, uh, need some fresh air."

Colby was just about to stand. "I can go with you-"

"No!" I cut him off abruptly and - from my own judgment - rather suspiciously. I cleared my throat. "Sorry, but-"

"She has to make a call," AJ interjected, looking from the group to me with a knowing glance. "Didn't you say you promised you'd call your mom before midnight?"

"Yeah," I answered instantaneously and calmly. I looked a the people staring at me. "A promise is a promise."

All but AJ nodded in agreement and went back to their conversation. AJ discreetly gave me a thumbs up and a smile in which I only replied with a nervous look and a nod. I turned on my heel and forced myself through the much denser crowd. A few seconds later, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I sighed, still in the center of the sea of people, and took out my phone. Turning the screen on, I found a text from AJ which only made me roll my eyes but I looked at it anyway.

**I think he liiiiiiiiikes you!**

I gave the message a strange look before quickly replying '**Who?**' and stuffing my phone back in my pocket. I was actually mildly annoyed that I had to go out of my way to find someone I didn't like. There wasn't even a guarantee that I could trick him into thinking I'm an alright person, much less a friend. _I gotta try._ Somehow managing to get to the other side of the crowd, I found no one. I growled under my breath and continued on, scanning the crowd for the one person I wish I was not trying to find.

Grumbling under my breath, I felt myself getting pushed towards the backdoor - clearly a result of the overwhelming drunken support of a shitty band as they try to get closer to the stage. Before getting pressed into the door, I swung it open with all of my force and escaped to the bitter cold quiet. The noise from inside had been muffled by the large, heavy door, leaving a dull ringing in my ears which I tried to shake out to no avail. I sighed and rubbed my arms before reaching for my phone once again. The madness of the inside of the local music venue had been enough for me to not even notice that my phone had gone off. I unlocked it once more and viewed my messages under AJ's name.

**'Colby!'**

I gave a half smile at the text and quickly sent back a** 'BRB'** before stuffing it back in my jacket pocket. I breathed out, exasperatedly, watching my warm breath billow out from between my lips and taking a much needed rest from my pointless and aggravating search.

"Are you following me or something?" I heard from somewhere nearby, the voice unmistakable.

_Oh no…_ I looked up and to my right, finding Punk staring at me and clinging to the old band hoodie he was wearing. I withheld another sigh, reminding myself that I should definitely not sound frustrated already. I never really considered myself someone who had a short fuse but I had started second guessing that since I met this man. I couldn't place exactly what irked me about him but it had to be big - what other explanation was there? I met his eyes with great disdain, my arms tightly folded across my chest. "No, I just needed some air."

_Focus on losing the filter._

Punk turned away from me as if what I had said had completely demolished any reasoning behind him speaking to me that day. This was not acceptable. This was certainly not going to get me a promotion. I had to talk to him, intrigue him. I grimaced at the very idea as I shot him a look. God, I was going to regret this. "So, what's your excuse?"

_Audrey, one. Punk, zero._

"Bored," came his simple answer which only turned the flat line that was my mouth into a deep frown.

_C'mon, no filter. Just say things._

I was a bit flustered but took a quiet, deep breath before speaking. "As articulate as you've been with me the past week, the least you could do is elaborate."

_Audrey, two. Punk, zero._

"No, the least I could do is not say anything," he quipped, not bothering to look my way. "Which I'm going to go back to doing."

_Audrey, two. Punk, one._

"Here I never thought you'd be the boring one…"

My eyes widened in horror. _Did I say that out loud? _That one earned me a sideways glance as if he'd actually been partially offended. Of course, the look in his eyes wasn't that of offense, but of sheer annoyance. I wanted to shrink back and leave him out there by himself but my resolve wasn't letting me back down this time - no matter how cold I was. I took a deep breath and looked at the man a few feet from me as I stood by the door to the back entrance. "Hey, I'm just out here to give you a heads up that people are looking for you but if none of us are worthy of your time then-"

I reached for the hand of the door and pulled it with all my strength only to come to a horrifying conclusion.

It wasn't budging.

"Um…"

I pulled it again with every ounce of strength I could muster up. Nothing.

"You've gotta be kidding…" I growled. I knocked on the door loudly, hoping that on the off chance this one time it was louder than the music. I waited at least a minute after with no reply. Stay calm! I kept thinking as I suddenly wished I hadn't been looking for anyone. I refrained from kicking the door and instead huffed out of frustration. "Damn it!"

And that was when I heard it.

A laugh. Oh, not any laugh. A familiar laugh coming from my side. I slumped my shoulders and spun around to look at the suddenly amused man who was now facing me with his hands stuffed in his hooded sweat jacket. "Having some issues with the door?"

"No," I replied quickly, taking a step back from said door. "Did you know it was locked on the outside?"

"Yep," he answered with a nod.

My eyes widened and I swallowed my anger and annoyance before speaking again. "Then why didn't you say something?"

"You had to figure it out eventually."

I gave him a flat stare, forcing myself not to give in to my mounting temper. "And what about you? Were you just planning on not going in the rest of the night."

"Not really, no." He looked at the door for a second before his eyes flickered back over to me.

I didn't believe him, obviously. There was no way he had planned on standing out there in the cold the rest of the night. I knew better than that. Suddenly, an image popped into my head of CM Punk banging on the door and shouting for someone to let him in. He had a pretty nasty temper himself and I had the feeling that that was the reason why he seemed so angry before. Then again, why he wouldn't catch the door or something while I was on my way out was a complete mystery to me.

A few seconds later, I felt a buzzing in my pocket and cringed._ No. Please don't be what I think it is._ I pulled out my phone once more to find my screen flashing the carrier logo and shutting off. I desperately pressed the side button for it to turn back on. Nothing. "Shit." I looked up and across the way at Punk with a pleading look. "Do you have a phone?"

He nodded slightly. "Yep."

"Can I borrow it?"

"Nope."

I rolled my eyes, turning completely in his direction. "C'mon, please?"

"Nah, I think this is pretty funny," he responded with a grin. "Continue."

_Audrey, two. Punk, two._

I exhaled loudly and fought back shouting at him. I gave the man a resigned look and started walking towards the other side of the building. "Fine. I'll go back in the front door."

"Good luck," he called after me and I started hearing the sound of footsteps behind me. I could feel my anger and annoyance boiling under my skin but I knew I couldn't let it out. My movements were stiff and measured as I made my way to the doorman at the front who happened to be taking tickets. I stopped again and stared in horror. Calmly and collectedly, I searched the pockets of my jack and then the pockets of my jeans. No ticket. No working phone. Just me, stuck in the cold with someone I could very nearly say I hated.

Speaking of, I slowly turned around to look at him. There he stood looking as smug as ever, a smirk playing on his lips. I suddenly had the urge to punch him. Instead, I took the high road. "Do you have your ticket?"

"Yeah."

I paused and considered my next question, already knowing my answer. "You're not going to let me use it to get back in, are you?"

He shook his head, the same self-satisfied look on his face. "Not at all."

_Audrey, two. Punk, three. That jackass._

I swallowed my pride yet again and continued. "Can I ask why?"

"Go right ahead."

Not expecting that one, I momentarily clenched my jaw but gave myself a few seconds to calm down again. "...Okay then. Why?"

"Because then I can't get back in," he said as if it were obvious.

I raised an eyebrow at the WWE Champion. "Do you even plan on going back in?"

"I don't know," he added with a shrug. "Probably not. It's nice having the option available."

I glanced back at the door, running through all of my options in my head and finding I had very little. It was as if the universe deemed that I had nothing else more important in my life than to talk to the most annoying person I knew for the whole of the night. I looked up at the cloudy sky, praying for a meteor to shoot down from it and pummel me into the earth where I could be taken out of my misery. Of course, there was no chance of that happening, which only left me with one undeniable and infuriating option. In a matter of moments, my eyes went from the sky and back to Punk, only to find him walking down the street. My eyes widened and, with no other alternative, I bolted after him, dodging several people in my way. "Hey!"

He stopped and turned, giving me a strange look. "What now?"

"I'm going with you," I practically choked out. He looked as surprised by what I had said as I did saying it. This was the perfect opportunity though. This was exactly what I needed to get in this man's good graces - or die trying. I needed to add something else though before he got suspicious though. I cleared my throat and shifted uneasily in my spot. "I am not spending New Year's Eve by myself in the cold. And, lucky you, you're the only person around."

The confused look on his face didn't change one bit. "What if I decide to go back in?"

I laughed out loud. It was a bitter, almost sarcastic laugh but it was certainly better than yelling at him. "Then that makes you a dick. Not that I would put it past you, considering you won't even let me use your phone but that's beside the point. The point being I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt."

And there it was, in all its splendor: I was saying exactly was I was thinking. Not all of what I was thinking, granted, but it was progress. Thanks to the combination of a pushy head writer and the help of my sort-of-friend, here I was pleading with a person I didn't like for the sole purpose of a promotion. Although, the prospect of being one of the only writers in the building that gets along with this guy could be an advantage in itself.

His olive eyes were examining me closely as if considering from all angles whether or not I was worthy of his time. I stood there, my own dark eyes filled with purpose and an unhealthy amount of pride. I would never in my life let myself look in any way weak to people like Punk. I had to show I was asking not because I absolutely _needed _to, but because I preferred this to loitering outside of a club until someone noticed I was missing.

There was a beat and for a second I thought he'd say no. He let out a long, exasperated sigh, his expression still unamused. "Yeah, okay. Fine. Just...don't slow me down."

A smile curled onto my lips, more accomplished than genuinely happy. It already seemed like step one was going swimmingly. I gave him a short nod. "You got it, champ."

As he started walking again, I caught up to him, wondering what I may have just done.


	8. Chapter Seven: Resolutions

**Chapter Seven: Resolutions**

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**A/N: Okay, okay, so maybe I'm asking for a lot but I know this story has quite a bit of followers now - more than I thought I'd ever have. That being said, I appreciate the reads but it'd be super awesome of you guys to send me some reviews. Is there anything you've especially liked so far? Is there something I could improve on? Anything. Encouragement always helps. And it gives more of a chance that I'll be continuing this to the end. So [I never thought I'd be tagging this onto my author notes again] read & review! 8D**

* * *

I was still in awe of what was happening.

There I was, walking down the packed streets of Stamford and essentially wondering what in the hell I was doing next to CM Punk. It'd been maybe ten minutes since we had left the front of the Rack 'n' Roll Cafe and had headed down the long stretch of road in front of us. We hadn't said a word to each other but instead proceeded to remain in our own little worlds. I had taken notice to him analyzing the establishments we passed as if he were looking for a place to simply sit down and relax in. I couldn't blame him there, honestly. I didn't want to be stuck outside all night and certainly didn't want to be wandering the streets downtown while the clock struck twelve.

I wanted to say something but I had the inkling that whatever I brought up we would somehow get into a fight over. There was only so much I knew I could let slide and odds were he'd challenge me and what I had said by contradicting my every word for the rest of the night.

Dear god, what had I gotten myself into?

I continued walking alongside him, listening to the half conversations from the people we passed. Some were joyous and celebratory, others were angry and generally unpleasant. All the others? Just plain idiotic. I shook my head and returned my attention to my thoughts. Silently, I wondered if the only reason he was doing this is because of how pissed off AJ would be if he left me. That was the only logical explanation I could think of at the moment. Why else would someone who constantly badgers and ridicules me being suddenly alright with my presence?

Just as that thought ran through my head, I noticed out of my peripheral vision that he was turning. I was starting to realize just how awful I was at paying attention. Of course, he was no better for doing so without warning. I quickly followed his lead and entered what looked like a diner. Almost instantly, I was wrapped up in the warmth and pleasant smells that came along with places like that. It reminded me of all neat little truck stops - which I found to be the only saving grace of constantly travelling cross country. I followed Punk to one of the booths and promptly sat across from him. He gave me another odd look before settling his gaze out the window. I withheld a sigh and unzipped my jacket, making myself just about as comfortable as I could possibly be in this situation.

"What can I get ya?"

I heard the voice and looked up to find a young woman not looking at me but at Punk with a smile on her overly made up face. It was overtly obvious that this girl had not planned on working this particular night. Then there was the guy I had walked in with who hadn't even heard the question. I took that as a sign I'd have to be the one to talk much to my dismay. "Can I have a coffee?"

In that instant, the girl turned in my direction, flipping her pretty red hair and glaring at me with her bright blue eyes. I frowned at her and lightly kicked Punk in the shin to grab his attention. He gave me an indignant stare before I nodded in the direction of the waitress. He blinked and looked over at the woman with a forced smile. "Oh, uh, Pepsi. Thanks."

Without even missing a beat, he eyes were redirected out the window once again. The woman's red painted lips suddenly wore a frown as her stare went back to mine. I smiled as pleasantly as I could. "Yeah. Thanks."

Her frown deepened and she strode away from our table. My mini-victory was short lived as I realized just about what she was thinking as I sat there. At that table. Alone with a guy. _Oh dear god. _My smile disappeared instantaneously as I looked over at Punk. My only saving grace was that he looked completely and utterly disinterested. I released a rather relieved breath and slumped into my seat. Of course, with my brilliant luck, I had called attention to myself. The man across from me raised an eyebrow. "What's your deal?"

"Huh?" I muttered as I looked up at him. "Oh, uh, nothing." I internally winced at that reply before adding in, "Besides, I could ask you the same thing."

_Eh, decent recovery. Shaky on the dismount._

"No one's stopping you from starting a conversation," he replied with a pointed look.

I sighed and gave him a mildly annoyed look. "I stand by what I said."

"Fine." He slouched in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, Audrey - what's your last name again? Newman? Something like that? How is your night going?"

I rolled my eyes and plastered on a smile. It was getting late and my filter was disintegrating naturally due to fatigue. "Oh, it's going great, _Phil_." He raised his eyebrows, as if he was actually a bit shock I had said that. I was on a roll now and couldn't stop myself from speaking again. "Uh oh! I called you by your first name! What're you gonna do now? Block me on twitter?"

Punk gave me an odd look as if he had never seen me before in his life. "Huh. And here I was thinking you didn't have a backbone. Why the sudden change?"

"Maybe," I started, coming up with a half-lie on the spot, "I finally realized you're not nearly as intimidating as you want the writing staff to think."

"Is that so?" he asked, still scrutinizing me. I couldn't tell if he was getting annoyed with me or actually enjoying himself at this point. Either that or for the first time, he was viewing me as an actual person. _No. Couldn't be that. _"Then-"

We obviously had not been paying attention as the drinks we'd ordered were placed in front of us. Punk looked down at his soda and then up at the girl, who was now smiling brightly. "Anything else you needed?"

Punk shook his head and looked at me. I looked up at the woman with another fake smile. "Could I have a slice of that peach cobbler?"

She nodded silently, wrinkling her nose as she wrote down the order. Hey, I just gave you a reason to come back over here and flirt with him, you bitch. I laughed and shook my head as she walked off once again.

"Fat ass," Punk said with a grin.

I gaped at him, struggling not to take it personally. _Breathe, Aud._ "Now, that's not very nice to say to a woman."

"You're a woman?" he quipped almost immediately. "Sorry, I couldn't tell."

I snorted a sarcastic laugh. "I know I don't make it painfully obvious like other girls." I nodded in the direction that the waitress had gone. "Who push up their boobs and flip their hair and bat their abnormally long eyelashes…"

He shrugged, looking at me again. "Eh, two out of three."

"Two out of three?"

"As in you have one of those things," he answered before taking a sip of his drink.

I tilted my head, suddenly very interested in the conversation. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I'm a guy, genius." His eyebrows furrowed as he met my stare. "What? Do you really want to have this conversation?"

I opened my mouth to speak, my thoughts running through as many outcomes as possible in this situation before I clamped my mouth shut again and shook my head. "Not really, no."

Once again, silence fell around us and I was left with my thoughts and my coffee - two things that in any other situation would be all I needed. Of course, neither could save me from the awkwardness or discomfort of having to sit there. I thought of what to talk about - that wouldn't lead to a fight - as I poured an unhealthy amount of sugar and non-dairy creamer into my drink.

"That looks fucking gross; I hope you know that."

My eyes flickered up to him, noticing his gaze on my coffee as his face scrunched up in disgust. I blinked and in spite of him, I raised the mug to my lips and took a sip while look him dead in the eye. As I set the mug back down, a polite smile stretched across my face. I refrained from speaking, knowing that there was nothing I could say that wouldn't come out incredibly clichéd or cheesy. Then again, my saving grace was the return of the waitress who had essentially dropped the plate of peach cobbler in front of me. I raised an eyebrow at the woman who was no longer paying attention to me - to be fair I didn't think she was from the start. At no surprise to me, the two began talking. The woman - _did she say her name was Rachel? -_ spoke animatedly and laughed often while Punk mostly nodded and gave short answers.

In the meantime, I looked out the window and watched the cars passing by us with increased interest. Part of me momentarily wondered if the others had attempted to find us by now. In reality, I probably should have simply waited for someone to find me. I might've at least had a better time than I was now.

"Isn't that right, Aud?"

Well, I never in my life thought I'd hear Punk call me that. Typically, the only people ballsy enough to nickname me were friends of mine already, something I certainly couldn't say about the straight edge across from me.

"Hm?" I mumbled as my attention returned to him and the woman who was now critiquing me. My eyes widened a bit as I shrunk a little bit in my seat. In retrospect, I knew I should've been paying attention but Punk made it so hard to even want to. Praying for a bit a good luck, I dumbly nodded. "Oh yeah. Definitely."

I had said it so flimsily that I was fairly certain even the girl in front of me would see through it. She drummed her violet hued nails on the table for another second or two before smiling again. "Oh. Sorry. My mistake." Whatever had happened, it was enough to get her to walk off in a huff.

My brows knitted together curiously as I looked over at my company for the night. "Okay. Um. What exactly did I miss?"

"Nothing important," he said, taking another drink of his soda.

_Remember, gotta reply within 5 seconds._

"Please tell me you're not going to tip her," is what I had decided on. I inwardly cringed at exactly how obnoxious and petty that actually sounded out loud.

"Any reason why I shouldn't?"

"She was being a bitch," I grumbled with a sideways glance at the woman.

Punk blinked, his expression unchanging. "To you." I nodded reluctantly, almost immediate aware of the direction he was going with this even before he continued. "All the more reason to tip her."

I swallowed my resentment before replying or else I might have done something thoroughly immature. "...Is there any possible way for you not to be an asshole? Just, you know, _maybe_?" Before he could answer with another one of his signature snappy retorts, I spoke again. "Because I'd like my last-" I checked the clock on wall by the entrance quickly. "-three minutes of 2011 to be somewhat tolerable."

The very faintest of frowns lined his mouth as he looked at me. A whole twenty-seven minutes or so that we had spent stuck with each other and that was probably the closest thing I'd get toward any sympathy. Considering I had been expecting even less than that, I was almost astonished. Then again, what happened following that certain added to my shock and awe. He folded his tattooed hands together on the table, he gaze that had not left me remaining if nothing else unwavering. "Tolerable, huh?"

I nodded simply, instantly feeling very small. "Tolerable," was the only word I managed to say before distracting myself by picking at the crust of the cobbler in front of me.

"Okay…" Punk gave an exaggerated eye roll and exhaled noisily. It was at least a good thirty seconds that we sat in silence as I gave him time to think - about what, I wasn't sure. "It's New Year's Eve, right? Resolutions." He looked behind him at the same clock I had eyed moments earlier. Two minutes. Give or take. "You give one, I'll give one."

I snickered, suppressing the smile that was threaten to break out on my face. "Not gonna lie, that sounds kind of...lame."

"At least I'm trying, for fuck's sake," he replied sharply.

I glanced up from the dessert I was picking at with a confused look in my near-black eyes. "Why is that, anyway?"

I heard him mutter something indiscernible before opening his mouth again. "Because back at that club, there's a tiny, ridiculously nice girl who we happen to be mutual friends with. If I try to fuck up your night any more, she'd murder me."

"So…" I began slowly, my tone careful and measured. "You're admitting to trying to fuck up my night."

A low chuckle came from the scruffy looking wrestler. "You spilled hot coffee on me, told me to get over it, and kicked me in the shin. That's all I gotta say."

"First off, the coffee thing was an accident. And you insulted me right after, anyway." I scratched the back of my head nervously, recalling the incident. "And also, you've been making me pay for that since it happened."

Punk rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his demeanor feigning ignorance. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But-"

"We have a minute left," he cut in, offering me a flat look. "Jesus christ. Just give a resolution."

I sent him a half-hearted glare, knowing this was an awful idea. It wasn't like I didn't have any resolution I'd been thinking of the past few days - not that I ever kept them. Narrowing it down to one though? That was a whole different ball game. If there was anything I wasn't ready for, it was on the spot choices. I gulped and slouched a bit. "You go first."

He gave me the strangest look and shook his head before talking again. "Yeah, sure." Although that's what he'd said, he sounded all but sure. Still, he only took another couple of seconds to speak. "...To be so amazing, I never have to make another stupid ass resolution again."

I gave him a blank stare for a moment before snorting a laugh. "...So, you'll be making another resolution next year then, I assume."

The grin didn't leave his face regardless of the glare he sent me. "You are so fucking predictable, you know that?"

My eyes brightened at the comment and smile grew. Once again, it was not a happy smile but a semi-victorious one. "That's it! My resolution for 2012…" An air of pride seeped into my tone as I momentarily paused for dramatic effect. "...is to be unpredictable."

Punk gave me an incredulous look as a smirk formed on his lips. "And you think _mine's_ unattainable?"

In that instant, as if I was being yanked out of some alternate universe where people named CM Punk and Audrey Newsted could coexist, I nearly jumped out of my seat as the whole of the diner shouted a hearty and joyous _'Happy New Year!'_. I looked around quickly at the numerous people hugging, kissing, and chatting loudly. Before I knew it, thoughts of my job and my deal with Mrs. Levesque barraged my consciousness. Likewise, thoughts of how much progress I had made in a night came with them. I knew there was more I could do though; I could take it one step further. Odds were I wouldn't be this brazen around him again - at least not for a while and I knew better than to waste it. I narrowed my eyes on him. "Fine. How about we make a bet out of it?"

At first, he looked almost taken aback but in a matter of moments, his stare matched mine. "Alright then, I'll bite. What are the terms?"

This was the tricky part - I had to word it precisely I needed it to be and more that likely give it a deadline. I needed to work him over still and my job there was far from done. This was an opening to keep the line of conversation open. Besides, his ego was big enough that he was sure he'd win. Ignoring the loud voices and music all around, I began to speak once again. "Easy enough. We each do five things to prove we're sticking to our resolutions. Whoever's closest by a certain date, wins..." I paused, if for no other reason to make him think this was much more on the spot than it really was. "...Got it! Whoever wins gets to make one question free and argument free demand of the loser - no matter _what_ it is."

Punk sat there quietly, analyzing me yet again - probably trying to work out whether or not there was a legitimate chance I could win this. The moment that followed, confirmed my suspicions as his smirk widened into a mischievous smile. "And when is this certain date exactly? I mean, I'm gonna need ample time to figure out what I'd get one of the WWE Creative Team Members to for me."

He was in my pocket, I knew it. I continued to keep my cool and thought for a moment. "Oh, I was thinking...Wrestlemania." There was a beat before I stuck out my hand, as if my promotion was in the bag already. I had never in my life been so sure of something. "Deal?"

He slowly lifted his hand and grabbed my firmly, his eyes darkening. "May the best _man _win."


End file.
